


Cubed

by Hambone



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Blurr Cube, M/M, Sticky Sex, Tactile Interfacing, Uncomfortable Medical Conditions Being Taken Advantage Of, creepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shockwave relieves some stress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cubed

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of people made jokes about this back in the day. I wanted to make it less of a joke, for no real reason other than that I hadn't seen it done.

There were not many things that Shockwave felt necessitated secrecy from his superior. His exalted Lord Megatron cared not for the particulars of his agent’s lives, so long as it did not somehow interfere with his own. Being Megatron’s most loyal servant, Shockwave was certain to have no such designs. 

But even the most devoted Decepticons had their private needs.

Gently, he lifted the cube from its storage container. Shockwave had been keeping it here, in his personal quarters, ever since his falling out with the Autobot Intelligence Agency. He had been storing it, before that, in the garbage disposal. Truly, his intent had been to destroy the little thing, but some small part of him had always known he would go back for it. The furnace was not even lit before he had to drop all previous plans and return to his true form. Sensitive materials indeed.

 Passing it from hand to hand, he inspected it all over, allowing no crumpled seam or patch of flaking paint to go unnoticed. It was imperative that he knew the exact physical state of his guest at all times, to ensure that he had the best care. Thin tubes of energon snaked out from a bag resting inside the hiding place, connected directly to what was left of the cube’s fuel lines. It was a messy patch, really, but it was enough. 

No matter how many times Shockwave handled the cube, he was still fascinated by how it captured his attention so fully. Small lines of silver crisscrossed the baby blue, the numerous paths of his previous touches. 

“Hello, Blurr.”

Shockwave was well aware that the Autobot’s audio sensors were most likely scrap at this point, but some base coding in his program always prompted him to speak. Perhaps by coincidence, Blurr’s energy field responded, hardly noticeably, drawing in on itself. Shockwave sighed deeply, content, and caressed the cube with a single claw. His own energy field dipped forward to envelope and soothe Blurr.

“Hush, hush.”  

His spark swelled in his chest. Being so close to the object of his affections often had this effect on him. Unfortunately Blurr did not seem to feel the same. Despite his careful ministrations, fear was radiating off the cube, almost imploringly. Shockwave stroked his servos across the crushed folds again, cycling out soft shushing noises. Blurr’s field only quaked, but he paid that no mind. 

A particularly dented scrap of metal clung to one side, pale blue light painting the edges white. Shockwave’s spark pulsed, and he cycled a little faster. With his first and third servos, he pinched one side of the metal and slowly peeled it back. The blue intensified, bathing the corner in a quiet purple glow. 

Beneath the scrap lay Blurr’s still-beating spark. Shockwaves cooling fans kicked in, loud in the darkness. The spark was dull, but it was enough to keep Blurr’s systems on-line, responsive, even, and that was impressive in itself. 

The Autobot had always been small and compact. Now he fit snugly in the palm of Shockwave’s hand.

He shuttered his optic, the color darkening considerably. His own spark beat thrum after thrum of longing against its casing in answer to Blurr’s, laid bare before him. Softly as he could, Shockwave raised a servo to the opening, testing the field surrounding the ball of light. Uselessly, it tried to repulse his touch, little waves of energy beating against his hand. Shockwave bowed his head lower, enthralled. 

“You mustn’t fear me, Autobot,” he cooed, probing deeper.

“By now I would expect you to recognize that your continued existence suits my…personal agenda.” The light from Blurr’s spark quivered, and Shockwave’s chest plates throbbed in a mixture of arousal and barely repressed adoration. It had not been part of his original plan to keep Blurr this way, a helpless hunk of metal, but if it was what was required to have the Autobot, so be it. Pity did not taint him yet. He moved to his berth, sitting upright and holding the cube closer.

Cleaving through the weak field resistance, Shockwave pressed the tip of his claw to the surface of Blurr’s spark. Grazing it slowly along the glassy ball, he just managed to press hard enough to alert Blurr’s compromised senses to the touch. It glowed brighter, alive with fear and revulsion. Were he not so distracted, Shockwave may have had the mind to care. 

As it was, he merely shuddered, unable to tear his optic away from his task. Blurr’s field was fluxuating wildly in confusion. Shockwave’s servo caught in an almost microscopic seam in the vulnerable laser core, and Blurr actually shook, the energy pressure in the air around them intensifying greatly. He continued to tease the area, knowing full well that he was walking the line between pleasurable friction and irreparable harm. 

Shockwave’s engine revved, cooling fans hiking up a level. He prodded and explored the shining surface, struggling to keep a steady hand. Arousing Blurr in this form was difficult. So many of his system had been destroyed; it was inevitable that certain delicacies must be observed. Blurr was broken. No physical control, half-capacity processing, and, most dangerously important, a distinct lack of cooling systems. 

Even now, the metal of the cube burned Shockwave’s palm. A weak but undeniable interest was wafting up through Blurr’s aura, helplessly reaching out to the Decepticon’s own. Cycling out deep huffs of air, Shockwave finally allowed his chest plates to open, engorged spark leaping towards the cube’s heat. 

Blurr was hot enough now to be a discomfort, but Shockwave just clasped him tighter, closer. Their spark’s met, Shockwave’s enormous red mass dwarfing Blurr in comparison. They vibrated against each other’s fields before finally, explosively, establishing a tactile bond. It was so intense that Shockwave was unable to control his vocalizer, groaning low static. He pressed painfully close to the cube, rougher than was safe. 

Dead circuitry flared up, phantom pains from limbs Blurr no longer possessed flooding both their systems. A stream of sadness and confusion and hurt and half-thoughts clouded the air around the cube, an instinctive call for help. Shockwave poured his pleasure through the fog, into Blurr where it overflowed and, having nowhere else to go, rotated back through them both again and again. It cleaved Blurr’s delicate thoughts in two, filling him until Shockwave’s spark was all around him, inside and out. There was no more room for confusion or pain. Shockwave was shaking, supporting himself with one hand on the berth. 

He thought of the Autobot before he was crushed, before he knew the truth about his superior. He had not courted Blurr then, nor had any plans to. His charade had been interrupted long before his desires could fully manifest. There had never been an opportunity to see what Blurr would look like on his back, spread and willing and innocent of his true intentions. 

A low click echoed beneath the huffing and electric crackles, Shockwave’s interface panel snapped open and released his fully pressurized spike. There was nothing to be done regarding this aspect of Blurr’s physiology, but Shockwave could imagine well enough. He settled back against the wall, maneuvering to better handle himself. Shockwave held Blurr closer, forcing himself to remain restrained as he cycled pleasure through them. 

 The heat was so great now that condensation beaded and dripped down his chassis, hissing into steam if it met Blurr’s overstressed frame. The Autobot was practically melting in his hand. The added stimulation of Shockwave’s spike had thrown him very close to the edge. He moved his servos in precise jerks, squeezing tighter until drops of unprocessed transfluid leaked from the tip. His spark beat wave upon wave of pleasure and heavy feeling through the circuit between them.

In this state, Blurr was incapable of a full overload. Still, his systems became overwhelmed, and a great release of energy signaled his inability to continue. A wash of crippled pleasure filtered through their bond and into Shockwave, who hunched down over Blurr and worked himself with renewed vigor. 

He remembered the time, shortly before Blurr had left for Earth, when they had last spoken. Blurr had saluted him with his usual intensity, babbling on and on, but the part of the memory that stuck in his mind now was the end of the conversation, when the Autobot had, almost timidly, held out cautious servos. Shockwave, then Longarm Prime, had stared dubiously at the gesture before returning it, shaking Blurr’s hand a bit harder than he should have. Blurr had squawked with his usual indignance, but had also smiled, more genuinely and unguarded than Longarm had ever seen him do. 

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Sir.” 

Shockwave overloaded, hard, transfluid discharging with enough force to project it up onto the underside of his hand still gripping Blurr. A shower of sparks rained down from his open chest plates, sizzling into smoke as they met the shimmering heat radiating off his palm. 

Several kliks passed before he was able to focus his optic again. Blurr’s spark, considerably darker now, beat softly inside its casing. One of the energon lines had fallen out at some point and was leaking on the floor. Shockwave sighed, placing the cooling cube beside him and leaned down to pick up the tube.  

It was just a quick patch, but it was enough.  

 

 

 


End file.
